


Turbulent Waters

by purglepurglepurgle



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: Action & Romance, Boats and Ships, Comedy, F/M, Flirting, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Minor Original Character(s), Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Tension, i don't know how boats work, some violence, will they won't they
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 11:14:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purglepurglepurgle/pseuds/purglepurglepurgle
Summary: Elena's on an unusual mission. With Tseng. Romantic comedy action involving a false identity, assorted boats and an awkward outfit.
Relationships: Elena/Tseng (Compilation of FFVII)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	Turbulent Waters

**Author's Note:**

> I suspect the boats don't make much sense in this; all my understanding of boats comes from that [Lonely Island vid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R7yfISlGLNU) (is actually fair to say that my entire mental landscape is just Lonely Island vids). If you're reading this fic for nautical realism... you want a different fic.

The coat is thick, red leather. Elena slides her arms into the sleeves, annoyed by the weight. Her shoulders are going to ache by the end of the night. And she's got a week of it to look forward to. Sighing, she fastens the gleaming buttons, smooths down the collar and stands up straight. It comes down to her calves. It's supposed to be thigh-length, but she's relieved; her legs are already cold above the knee-high red boots (4-inch heels; she's going to die). Junon's winters aren't the coldest in the world, but the tights are stupid, thin, patterned things, and the strapless dress is so flimsy it looks more pink than red.

"Well, here it is," she says to the others, mouth twisting.

Tseng nods approvingly. "You look good."

Her breath catches. Then she realises what he actually means: "_You look like Scarlet._" She almost cries.

This week, Elena is on decoy-duty. Since the meteor appeared, Scarlet's been receiving more death threats than usual, so pick a blonde, any blonde, to distract would-be assassins while Scarlet travels cross-country. Elena will depart on a very public cruise with a cluster of armed guards, while Scarlet makes a much lower-key journey in the opposite direction. Elena will be given a small revolver (mother of pearl, for crying out loud!) and far too much red apparel. She'd much rather be with the other guards, carrying her black pistol, dressed in her usual blue. But such are the perks of being the only woman on the team. She hopes she'll at least get some of Scarlet's amenities. They'll have to put her in the 1st class suite, right?

"What do you think, Scarlet?" says Tseng. The three of them are standing in a Shinra office in Junon.

Scarlet looks Elena up and down, and scowls. She turns to him. "Couldn't you have found someone prettier?"

Elena hears Kill Bill sirens.

"We look nothing alike," Scarlet continues, flicking Elena's collar. She's wearing an identical getup. "Is this really the best you can do?"

Tseng forces a smile. "The hair and the coat should be sufficient from a distance, ma'am. And, of course, we've yet to apply makeup."

"She'll need it," says Scarlet, peering at Elena. "She looks about six." She pulls a pin out of Elena's hair, and jabs her in the arm with it.

"Ouch!" says Elena.

"And _I_ don't squeak like a mouse." Scarlet snorts. "Well, if all you've got is this urchin, fine. But she'll need to keep her mouth shut."

"Noted," says Tseng. Scarlet leaves.

Elena glares after her.

Tseng sighs. "She's pulled your hair undone. Come here."

His fingers are light on her upper arm. She wishes wishes wishes she hadn't put the coat on already; she wants to feel his fingers on her bare skin. He leans toward her, slides her hair back above her ear-- she can't breathe-- twists her hair around the bun, and fixes it into place with the pin. She can feel the heat from his chest. She closes her eyes. Then he steps back, smartly. "There we go."

"Y-you're good at this, Sir!"

Tseng gives a small smile. "She's right, you know. You look nothing alike."

Elena is about to protest when Tseng touches her hair.

"Her loss," he says.

Elena can't breathe.

He steps away, lets his hand fall to his side. "Anyway. Let's just be glad it's winter. I'd hate for you to have to wear that other thing."

Elena is still dazed (that was definitely him flirting, right? Right??? No way did she misinterpret that!)-- but his words filter through eventually. She pictures waddling around in the slit-dress with the thigh-high stockings, and shudders. Though then she pictures Tseng helping her with the stockings, and... that would not be so bad. Tseng pauses, and for a wild moment she thinks he's going to vocalise the same thought-- but when he speaks, it's all business.

"There will be two teams of armed guards, one with you, one with Scarlet. Scarlet's team will be bigger, but plainclothes."

She's almost wondering if she imagined the hair-touch-- but her head is still tingling on that side. Reno would warn her away, something charming like 'don't shit where ya eat, yo'-- but what does Reno know? Plus, if it weren’t so thoroughly implausible that anyone would ever sleep with Reno, she’d be certain he was banging Rude.

"I will be accompanying you," Tseng continues. "Scarlet took some convincing; she thought I ought to stick with her, since I'm the Head of the Department. I've managed to convince her that I'm still recovering from my injuries."

Elena wonders if she should read something into this; he's going out of his way to be with her... And he _did_ invite her to dinner, right before he got hurt-- but then, they haven't spoken of it since…

And then he continues:

"My face is relatively well known. It adds to the illusion if I'm with you."

"Y-yes, Sir..." Her heart sinks. It's just business.

"And, five days of Scarlet..." Tseng shrugs. "I think Reno is better-suited to that, don't you?"

Elena grins. "Yessir!" At first, she's smiling just out of schadenfreude, but then it hits her.

5 days on a cruise with the boss.

This mission is... not the worst.

"This coat is something." Tseng runs a finger down her upper arm. She jumps. He continues, voice lower. "I haven't seen this much leather in one room since Sephiroth. Why do all our senior staff come to work in fetish gear?"

Elena laughs nervously. The conversation suddenly feels dangerous. They're alone in the room. He's touched her hair _and_ her arm. And she remembers, now, how he looked at her, when he asked her to dinner. Her mouth's dry. His fingers linger on her sleeve. She's been imagining a moment like this for years, and now maybe one's here, and her mind is infuriatingly blank.

"It looks good on you, though," he says, and her heart is pounding. He runs his finger down her arm, again. "Where the light catches it, liquid. Puts me in mind of melting wax." He rests his palm on her arm, just above the elbow, and closes his fingers around it.

Elena tries to say 'yes?'. It comes out more like 'hyeep?'

"We need to get your makeup done..." he says, but he touches her cheek with his other hand. "It's a shame. You look nice like this." He moves closer.

She pushes her arms back, so her breasts stick out as much as they can. She can still barely speak. "Uhuh?"

He strokes her cheek with his thumb. "This is a very bad idea."

"Uhuh?"

He leans toward her, pushing her lightly against a desk. She lets out a sigh. One of his hands moves down to her waist.

There's a clatter outside. Tseng springs back. The door bangs open. Reno-- FUCKING RENO!-- strolls in.

"Yo, boss, we good to go? Scarlet's doin' my fuckin' head in! Says she wants to leave _now_. I'm with Laney, right?"

"Oh, change of plan," says Tseng. Elena sees Tseng flexing his fingers, balling them into fists and stretching them out again. He explains to Reno, and Reno starts shouting, but Elena barely hears him over her crushing disappointment and the static rushing in her ears and her pounding heart. She's still leaning against the desk for support.

"Elena, can you do your own makeup?" Tseng's question cuts through her daze.

"Y-yeah..."

He nods. "In that case, I'll leave that to you, and we'll continue this conversation on the boat. You'll have the President's Suite to yourself."

"What?!" Reno is outraged. "This is so fuckin' unfair! Fuckin' hell, gimme a blonde wig, I'll do it--"

"You had your chance to volunteer," says Tseng. "Stop whining and go to Scarlet. I still need to run over a few details with Elena."

Her skin is hot.

"Nah, man." Reno fucking sits down on the edge of the desk. "I ain't goin' down unless you come with me."

Tseng takes a deep breath. Elena thinks he's going to break Reno's neck. But finally, Tseng exhales. "_Fine_. Elena, finish the makeup. We'll go down when you're done."

After a few minutes, they head toward the elevator. Reno lopes a couple of paces ahead, and, as they enter the lift, Tseng touches Elena's hip.

*

Elena stands on the deck of the ship. The winter wind whips her hair, her cheeks. She. Is. Freezing. The coat is rubbish; its buttons start at her breast; the top of the strapless dress is exposed, and her chest above it. The tights are just as useless as she thought they'd be. Her skin is covered in goosebumps. She wonders how Scarlet does it. She decides the older woman must just drink the cold away.

"Everything alright?" Tseng asks, standing a couple of feet to her right and slightly behind her.

"Y-yes, Sir!" She tries to tough it out.

Tseng frowns. "Not 'Sir'. Remember, you're senior to me right now."

"Oh, s-sorry, Sir! Argh! I mean, s-sorry... Tseng?"

Tseng nods. "It shouldn't really matter. The senior staff here know the deal, and we don't care about the guards. But it can't hurt for you to get into character."

"Y-yes, Sir-- Tseng!" Elena pulls the coat tighter around her, but then lets go-- Scarlet would never do that. She tries to stand proudly, feet planted apart, hands on her hips.

"Very good," says Tseng. She thrillls. But she doesn’t make a move. On her other side, a SOLDIER casts his gaze around, mako eyes glowing in the dark. Around the ship, the guards mill, checking the compartments for stowaways before they allow 'Scarlet' into her rooms. There have been some security adjustments following that awkward incident where both Sephiroth and a freaky alien, not to mention the entirety of AVALANCHE, snuck onto the President's personal vessel. Elena vaguely wonders how they did it. Wasn't one of them a dog? She's glad General Affairs had nothing to do with that one, anyway. She looks back at the shore. A crowd is assembling on the pier, to watch the departure. Tseng hasn't made any further advances. His eyes are on the crowd, gaze steely. It makes sense. There might be snipers. Elena turns her head slightly, so she can catch the gentle shimmer of the Barrier spell that surrounds them. With luck, it will slow any bullets-- but it's better if none are fired.

"It's too quiet," Tseng says, more to himself than to her. "I don't like it."

"H-how long is this going to take?" asks Elena, teeth chattering. She can't feel her feet. They're going to hurt like hell when she gets back into the warm.

"You'll have to ask a sailor," says Tseng.

Elena nods, and clears her throat, stepping toward a dark-haired man in a sailor suit. "Um, excuse me, Mr...?" The man pauses to look at her, puzzled.

"Scarlet's not that polite," mutters Tseng.

Elena nods harder. "R-right! Um, excuse me, um, miserable worm, um, how long before I can warm my, er, fabulous body in the Presidential Suite I've paid all this gil for, if, if you don't mind my asking?"

The man squints at her. "'Bout another quarter of an hour 'fore anyone goes in."

"Quarter of an _hour_?! Are you serious? Go faster!"

"Aye-aye." The man shuffles off.

"Much better," says Tseng. Elena's cheeks burn. She'd forgotten all about acting.

17 carefully-counted minutes later, a cabinboy waves them forward. "This way, ma'am!" He takes her small, red suitcase.

"About time!" says Elena. Then with a spark of inspiration, she throws her head back. "Kyahaha!"

She hears a cough of laughter behind her. Tseng. She turns. His face is flushed from the cold. Their gazes lock. There's no mistaking his expression. She feels like she's falling. The ship rolls underfoot, and she almost does fall, for a moment, but Tseng catches her arm.

"Careful," he murmurs. His knuckles graze her breast.

The men escort her to her room: the Presidential Suite. The cabin boy carries the suitcase inside, then bows, and runs away as fast as he can. Scarlet has a reputation. But Elena barely notices.

The room is the size of her _house_! A huge double-bed-- she was expecting shiny red sheets, or zebra print, but this is white, embroidered, with a million pillows, a _runner_. There are multiple bottles of champagne on the bedside table. A fully-stocked minibar. Chocolates on the pillows. The bedside lamps flicker, warm and welcoming.

"W-wow..."

Tseng looks unimpressed. "Not the best. I apologise."

"It's amazing," she breathes.

"Well, it's not the worst, either." He softens. "Just, travels with Rufus... I've seen things." He looks back at her. His gaze is intense. "Anyway. Our work is done, for now. No need to be seen on the deck until tomorrow." He closes the door behind them. His eyes move over her body, lingering on her legs. "We're alone."

She shivers.

"Would you like a drink?" he asks. His voice is lower.

"S-sounds good, boss..." The heat is flooding back into her limbs. She wishes her damn feet didn't hurt so much. She's pictured this scenario _so_ many times, but it's never featured chilblains, _for some reason_. Tseng walks over to the champagne, and pours her a glass. The bubbles fizz in the quiet of the room. Across one wall, a window looks out over the lapping water, black as Tseng’s hair. The duvet is tinted golden in the glow of the bedside lamp.

Tseng hands her the champagne flute. Their fingertips touch. He strokes down the length of her thumb, and sighs with pleasure. "We shouldn't do this..." He touches her collarbone, exposed above the flimsy strapless dress.

"It's unprofessional, isn't it?" Elena swallows as he traces his finger across her collarbone.

"Highly unprofessional. Not to mention, an abuse of authority." Tseng's finger moves lower, sliding along her neckline, that's closer to her breasts than her neck. "But it's tempting. And I have to say-- I've been tempted for quite some time."

Elena murmurs.

"Should I help you out of that coat?" Tseng asks. Elena manages a nod, breathing fast. He reaches for her belt.

His phone goes off.

_IF THAT'S RENO--_

Tseng glares at the screen, and swears. He steps back. "I'd better take this." He heads to the ensuite. "Hello?"

Elena collapses onto the bed, knees weak, and knocks back her champagne. When she finishes, she gets up, almost trips over Scarlet's suitcase, then pours herself another glass, and another. As she puts the bottle down, she hears a quiet 'flump' from behind her. She spins around. A man in a sailor-suit rolls out from under the bed, a knife between his teeth. She realises it's the same man she questioned earlier. He transfers his knife to his hand. "Die, bitch!" He leaps up.

"Eeeargh!" Elena swings the champagne bottle at him as she gropes in her coat pocket for the revolver. He dodges, knocks the bottle from her hand, then lurches forward with the knife. She sidesteps, but trips over Scarlet's suitcase. She tumbles to the ground. The revolver flies out of her pocket and skitters across the floor. The man leaps for her; he's on top of her; she kicks him between the legs before he can stab her; he drops the knife. She grabs it. He lunges for her arm, but before he can stop her, she headbutts him in the chest and plunges the knife into his thigh.

"Argh!" Blood spurts over the white leg of his sailor suit. He reels back.

Bang!

Suddenly the room is spattered with a lot more blood than it was a moment ago.

Tseng is standing in the ensuite doorway, pistol in hand. "Are you alright?" She can't hear the words over the ringing in her ears, but she can guess. She nods, pushing the dead weight of the assassin off her chest and stumbling to her feet. She tries not to look at the man, who is now missing the majority of his head.

"That was HQ on the phone just now," says Tseng. "Apparently we should be careful because there's an assassin on the ship."

"Oh really?" says Elena.

They both laugh, though Elena is shaking. Blood is dripping down her coat, onto the white floor. Her ears are still ringing.

"Come here," says Tseng, gently.

She does.

He wraps his arms around her. He smells of spice. "You did well," he murmurs, a hand on her back. "Surprised, like that, and you didn't get a scratch. Reno couldn't have done that. _Rude_ couldn't have done it." He rests his chin on her shoulder.

"Th-thanks, Sir." She can feel his breath on her neck.

"I love it when you call me 'Sir'," he mutters. His hand starts to move lower.

"I love saying it..." She presses closer against him. Then his lips are on her neck. She tips her head back, with a moan. His hands slide up and down, over the leather.

"We really need to get this coat off," he says, breath hot against the hollow of her jaw. His hair is slippery on her collarbone. He tugs on her beltloops.

"But what if I get cold... Sir?" she asks, innocently.

Tseng nips at her ear. "Behave yourself."

She gasps. She feels like she's melting. She knew it would be like this, she _knew_ it.

He unties her belt. The coat falls open. Gently, he lifts it from her shoulders, pausing to stroke the bare skin, all the way down her arms, kiss her neck, _bite_. Elena grips his waist. His skin is so warm under his shirt. She pushes herself against him. Tseng sighs.

"I've wanted to do this for so long..." The coat slips down onto the floor. Elena steps out of it, skin hot, even in the short red dress. She stumbles; she's starting to feel the effects of the champagne-- but she keeps her balance. Tseng cups her jaw, stroking her earlobe with his thumb. "And these need to come out..." He pulls the pins from her hair. She feels the blonde wisps flicking down, brushing her chin. Tseng sighs. "You're so pretty..." That takes her by surprise. She's even more surprised when he crouches down.

"Sir?"

He straightens up again. He's holding the belt of the coat. "Place your hands behind your back, Elena. I want to see it."

"Y-yes, Sir..."

He binds her wrists with the belt, stopping every so often to kiss her shoulders.

"Perfect," he says, taking a step back. Then his eyes narrow. "Now, get on the bed."

She takes a step, but suddenly the ship pitches to the side. Tseng swears and catches her as they both fall on the floor.

"Wha--?" she starts, but a voice cuts in over the tannoy.

"The ship has hit an unexpected obstacle! We're taking in water! We need to evacuate! Everyone, on the deck, now!"

"Fuck!" says Tseng.

"Fuck!" says Elena. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

"Fuck! _Fuck_!"

They sit up.

"... You'd better get dressed," mutters Tseng. He looks like he wants to cry.

*

As they step back onto the deck, Elena's boots splash in the little puddles of seawater, making ripples. She's shivering, back in the damn coat. Even her _knickers_ are cold. Tseng walks just behind her, a steadying hand on her back, for which she's grateful; she doesn't think she drank _that_ much but she's wobbling in the red heels. She grips the boat rail. Sailors are running around, but they slow down as they pass her. After the fourth one stares, she realises why: she's still spattered with blood. She'd forgotten all about it. Even the smell is lost out here, in the wind and the sea-salt.

"Miss Scarlet! Ma'am!" A sailor bows. "We're doing what we can to repair the leak, but we're readying your lifeboat just in case!"

"What happened?" asks Tseng.

"We, we think it was a small torpedo, Sir!"

Tseng and Elena exchange a look.

"I beg your pardon?" says Tseng.

"We were attacked! It seems some terrorists stole a submarine!"

Tseng growls.

Elena looks out at the sea, which suddenly seems a whole lot more menacing than it did two minutes ago. There are no stars. There must be a storm brewing. "Um, what if they come back? D-do we have any defenses?"

The sailor gives her an odd look. "Don't you remember, ma'am? You specifically requested that the boat be equipped with bombcrabs!"

"Oh, um, kyahaha, so I did!" says Elena.

"Don't you worry about a thing!" says the sailor. "We've released them into the waters and they're zooming around as we speak! Anyone motors within a mile of this boat, they'll be blown sky-high!"

"I see..." says Elena. She notices there's blood in her hair. Ugh.

"Why weren't they deployed earlier?" asks Tseng, a vein throbbing in his temple.

"W-well, you see, sir, the bombcrabs, they can recognise our bigger ships, but when it comes to motors, they can't distinguish between civilians and military threats, and this is a popular spot for jet skiing, so..."

Tseng glowers, and pulls Elena closer. "Might I remind you that Scarlet, here, is a Shinra _Director_? She is _much_ more important than any number of civilians." Tseng's hand moves a little lower down Elena's back; his fingers graze her tailbone; she almost yelps.

"Right you are, sir!" The sailor bows again, smile tight. "Excuse me!" He runs away.

They're alone again.

"I should let go of you," says Tseng. He keeps his hand where it is.

"Someone will see," says Elena. She looks around. The sailors are occupied. She leads Tseng to a darker spot: a narrow walkway in the shadow of the cabin, with the boat rail running along the edge. She leans back against him. "But... you smell nice." She angles her hips up, so she's pressing against his pelvis, and puts both hands on the boat rail. Very slowly, she begins to grind. Tseng makes a low sound. He doesn't move. Elena plays coy, looking out over the water. "A lifeboat... we're not going to get a lot of privacy on a dinghy."

"It won't be a dinghy," Tseng automatically corrects. "It'll be a small boat in its own right..." He belatedly realises he's missing the point, and grips her hip. "But, you're correct. No privacy."

"This might be as good as it gets," says Elena. She moves her thigh back, against his-- and the boat jerks. Her chin smacks into the rail. "Ow!"

"Elena!"

She blinks back tears, just as it starts to rain.

*

They can't fix the hole in the ship. Elena is led down the steps, toward a lifeboat.

"Is this whole thing really going to sink?" Elena stares at the massive ship in disbelief. It doesn't look possible. It's so _sturdy_.

"Seems so," says a sailor, sadly. "There's still a chance, but..."

"A chance is not good enough for a Shinra Director," interrupts Tseng. "We need to get her onto the boat."

The sailor salutes. Elena's fairly sure he rolls his eyes. He points. "The first boat, right there. You can't miss it." He stalks off. Elena's also fairly sure he's not meant to do that. She notices some gil drop out of his pocket, with a rattle, but she doesn't think much of it.

They reach the boat. She's relieved to see it has a cabin; at least it should be warmer than it is out here. A few sailors rush around on board. "After you," says Tseng.

He holds her hand, surreptitiously stroking her palm, as she steps onto the swaying planks. Then he moves to follow her-- but there's a loud rattling sound, and suddenly the boat is moving, and Tseng's hand is still in hers and she's almost pulled off the boat except someone's holding her back and Tseng jerks away and there's a giant _splash_ and Tseng's in the water shit shit shit

"Tseng!"

"Pull her back!"

A beefy woman has her arms locked under Elena's; she wrenches Elena away from the edge of the deck.

"Tseng, he'll freeze, we have to get him out!" Elena tries to pull free, but the woman's too strong.

"Sucks to be him," says the woman. Elena stares at her incredulously. The woman is wearing a sailor suit and hat-- but Elena notices, with a quiver of fear, that there's a jolly roger on the brim. The woman continues, "Since when have you cared about other people, anyway, Miss. Director?" And suddenly there's cold metal pressed against the nape of Elena's neck.

"No wayyyy..." moans Elena. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see it's a blunderbuss.

The woman jabs her with the gun, and marches her into the cabin.

*

They seat Elena, and bind her wrists and ankles to the chair. There are five of them.

"You're pirates?" Elena asks, since at least they haven't gagged her. Yet.

"Wealth-redistributors, thank you very much." A man with leopard-print hair spins her revolver round on his index finger. She's mad at herself for losing her weapon so easily. Then again, five on one...

And Tseng, in the freezing water...

Elena swallows.

"Here's how it's going to go," says the beefy woman, removing her hat and shaking her purple hair free. "You're going to disappear for a few days, weeks, months-- as long as it takes for Shinra to meet our demands. Let's hope it's sooner rather than later. A lot of folk on this boat want to see you bleed."

Everyone in the cabin nods, and there's laughter. A guy with-- he actually has a hook for a hand?!-- waves menacingly.

"You can't be serious!" Elena wails.

"We're starting the ransom at a million gil," says a woman in a velvet dress. "And we'll add on an extra hundred thousand for each day Shinra delays payment."

"N-nobody will publish your demands," says Elena. She speaks with some authority; her department tend to be tasked with shutting down that sort of thing.

"You're wrong! We've got a loyal paper in Costa Del Sol that's ready to go! The people hate you, and they're ready for revolution!"

"Power to the people!" shouts a man.

Elena frowns. "B-but Shinra uses its money for the people--"

"A meteor in the sky, and you go on a cruise!" The woman with purple hair kicks Elena's leg, shaking her chair. "Oh, Director Scarlet, I've been looking forward to this!" She looms over Elena, and pulls out-- a razor?!! That does it!

"I'm not Scarlet!"

The gang pause, exchanging puzzled looks.

"A likely tale!" says the woman.

"I'm not, I'm really truly not; I don't even _like_ her; she said I was ugly, and right back at her, I say! I'm not Scarlet! I'm not! She's in Mideel!"

Leopard-print-hair-man leans over Elena, peering at her.

The purple-haired woman lifts the razor to Elena's cheek. "Bullshit."

"I'm not Scarlet!" Elena shrieks.

And then come the blessed words. "Oh, hey! She isn't!" Leopard-print steps back in surprise. Elena notices he's wearing a cape, and heeled boots with fabulous buckles. In any other circumstance, she'd compliment them.

But she can't stop thinking about Tseng in the water.

"Who _are_ you, then?" asks the woman.

_They can't guess?_

Elena thinks fast. "Um, well, m-my name's Elly, and I'm from Sector 2-- I work in a callcenter, you see, and--"

"Get to the point!" The woman waves the razor under her chin. "What were you doing on that boat?!"

"I, well, Shinra had this advert, in the paper, they said they were looking for blondes to go on a free cruise, and I thought, 'well, hey, I'm blonde!', and I thought there had to be a catch but I sent the form off anyway, because I made a resolution this year to say yes to things because I'm a Virgo and I need to push myself out of my comfort zone, and they just told me 'wear these clothes' and I mean it's not my style, but, you know, free cruise, and I was a bit scared it was going to be, like, trafficking, but they were all so nice, and then they took me to the Presidential Suite, and actually that was so cool, they had chocolates on the pillows and this packed minibar, I mean _packed_, like more drinks than an actual bar, and--"

"Dammit!" The woman kicks Elena's leg again.

"Ow!" yells Elena.

"Shinra used a decoy!"

"What do we do with the girlie, then?" asks hand-hook.

Elena's heart pounds. If they learn who she is, they'll kill her.

"Guess we let her go," says the beefy woman, glaring. "I can't believe this."

"Tell me about it!" says Elena, attempting an ingratiating smile-- but the mood in the cabin has shifted to something dour. "So, what's the plan, do we sail back to Junon? That'd be good for me; I just need a payphone and I'll be out of your hair..."

They throw her overboard in a dinghy, with some flares and a chocolate bar.

*

Elena huddles under the emergency blanket. Her feet are freezing; leopard-hair-man stole her boots. She can see coastal lights in the distance, not that it matters-- she doesn't have a paddle. She _had_ one, but a porpoise stole it after three strokes, and bruised her arm in the fight. She didn't know it was possible to lose a fight to a porpoise. She lights a flare, for all the good that'll do her. She tries not to cry.

3 hours ago, she was with Tseng in the Presidential Suite, three bloody useless hours ago, and now she's going to die at sea _dressed like Scarlet_ and it's so cold her nose feels like it's burning and what if Tseng's dead?

She grips the side of the dinghy. Tseng survived _Sephiroth_.

But what if his injury makes it harder for him to swim? She was there when they pulled him out of the temple (Rude had to do it; she wasn't strong enough; she had to watch, helpless. She's been doing extra reps in the gym ever since-- and it hasn't made a bit of difference...). She saw what Sephiroth did. She still gets the nightmares. It's a miracle Tseng survived at all.

"Please be okay, boss," she whispers. It's so dark, she can't see where the sea ends and the sky begins. At least she can't see the meteor, either. She's just trying to ignore that one, take it day by day. Not like she can do anything. She's quietly hoping it just kind of disappears tomorrow. She got the Administrative Research job, after all; anything can happen. One of her hairpins is jabbing into the base of her skull; she pulls it out and wants to hurl it overboard, but it's one of Scarlet's own, so instead she drops it on the floor of the dinghy.

She thinks she hears a whirring sound, but when she listens closer, there's nothing. Just the splash of the waves. The water is choppy. It rains in spurts, then stops again. With nothing else to do, she munches on the pirates' chocolate.

There's another whirr. She pauses, mid-munch.

"Elena?" a quiet voice.

"Tseng!"

"Elena!" There's a light in the dark. She makes out the outline of a sailboat, and, on the deck, a worried face, pale in the torchlight. "I saw your flare."

"Tseng, there were pirates, they were so mean! They took the boat and threw me overboard! And one guy, you won't believe it, he had a hook for a hand, an actual hook, I know it sounds like I'm--"

"Are you injured?" he interrupts.

Elena shakes her head, then realises he can't see her in the dark. "I'm okay! You got out of the sea?"

"They rescued the cruise ship after all. I towelled off in our suite. I didn't realise you'd been taken, at first." He sighs. "I'm sorry." There's a _clonk_ as Tseng throws a rope. "Tie a knot. I'll tow you."

Elena ties it. "Good to go!" She's disappointed that he hasn't tried to board the dinghy in person, but then, that's never his style.

"Excellent." The whirr starts again. "The motor keeps cutting out; I'm rowing to give it a boost. Or I'd come down to you."

"Oh, gotcha, Sir!" Her heart leaps.

"Heh. Good to hear that 'Sir' again. I was worried." The motor rattles cheerfully, and they glide back toward the cruise ship. Elena's shivering under the blanket, but she feels safe for the first time in hours. She’s a bit worried about him-- he’s meant to be mostly healed up, but _rowing _cannot be good for a chest injury-- but her legs are so numb she can’t move, and he doesn’t sound like he’s in pain, at least. They don't talk. She gets the impression Tseng is as exhausted as she is. Her eyelids are heavy, closing, the dinghy is swaying and--

Bang!

Her eyes fly open. "What?"

"The engine cut out..." Tseng hits it with an oar. Tseng with an oar in each hand... now that's something. There are a few seconds of silence, then the whirr starts again. He leans back, relaxing, then frowns. He looks over the side of the boat. "Elena, do you hear that?"

"What?" she listens. For a few moments, nothing. Then she hears it. A... bleeping? sound. From... _under_ the water?

"Oh, _shit_," says Tseng, eyes widening. "Catch!" He throws the oars to Elena. She catches them instinctively, and is trying to work out what's going on when a fuck-off-massive robot crab bursts out of the water and leaps onto the deck of Tseng's boat. Tseng takes a running jump into the dinghy; he's just in time; the bombcrab explodes in a shower of orange fire. The sailboat burns, splits, and sinks, with a final few derisive bubbles.

"For _fuck's_ sake!" he thumps the bottom of the dinghy, and rolls over onto his back.

A long minute passes, and another. She listens to him panting, and the wind, and the waves. She wonders if she should give his shoulder a pat, or something, but she's not brave enough.

"I guess we row?" she says, instead.

Tseng makes a noise that's somewhere between a growl and a snarl. "The GPS was on the sailboat."

"Not to the cruise ship." She points at the lights in the distance, though he probably can't see her. "The coast."

"With today's luck, we'll get pulled over by border security." He sighs, and sits up. "Let's do it. I want to get away from these bloody crabs."

Elena starts rowing. She never expected to need this skill for anything other than the Shinra gym, but it just goes to show. "Um, what do we do if there's another crab?"

"We die," says Tseng.

There's a long pause.

Elena rows faster.

Tseng sighs. "I don't think we need to worry. They're drawn to motors. I think they'll leave us alone... but I'd rather not wait around to be proven wrong."

Elena nods. "Right you are, Sir!" There's a shuffling sound from behind her. Then she feels Tseng's hands on her shoulders. She almost drops the oars. "S-sir!"

"Keep going," he says, massaging her shoulders. He pulls his legs forward, so she's sitting between them. The warmth of his thighs is welcome. She leans back against him. He rests his chin on her head.

Elena wonders if she should make a move. But although rowing is warming her up a bit, her feet are still painfully cold and she's damp from rain and seawater and she's _so_ sleepy and her hair keeps blowing into her mouth and... Rowing is already a struggle, and if she didn't know better, she'd swear they were further away from the coast than when they started.

One of Tseng's hands goes round to her waist. He strokes her stomach. "Alone at last," he murmurs.

She looks round, intending to say something romantic, but instead just yawns in his face.

His hand drops. "Another time..."

There's a pause. Then she snuggles into him. She pins the right oar under her arm, reaches down for his hand, and puts it back on her waist. "This is okay."

"Just don't fall asleep," he murmurs, but he starts to stroke her again. He moves his hand up, so it's just under her right breast. She sighs. It feels good, though there's something sharp jabbing into her thigh. She shifts her weight.

There's a hissing sound.

"What?" she looks down. Her eyes widen. _The hairpin!_

It's torn right through the dinghy. As she watches, the tear lengthens, and water rushes in. She squeaks as the icy liquid splashes her thighs.

"Shit!" Tseng grabs the oars off her and rows as fast as he can-- but it's not enough. A hundred yards from land, they fall into the sea. She thought the water was cold in the leaking dinghy, but it's _nothing_ compared to being submerged. Her limbs cramp; she almost drowns, but Tseng grabs her and pulls her toward the shore, swearing with each stroke. She kicks ineffectually. Minutes? hours? days? later, cold, hard stones scrape her arms, her knees, laddering her tights as he drags her onto land. He lets go. She collapses onto the beach, lying flat on her face, too tired to move. A sadistic wave takes the opportunity to crash over her. She splashes, panicking. Her nose fills with seawater. She forces herself up onto her knees, coughing, spluttering, caked in sand. Tseng is sitting a few feet further up the beach, his head in his hands. She crawls over to him. She falls against him.

And, to her eternal shame, she bursts into tears.

*

Elena doesn't really remember what happens after that, though she has a dim recollection of bawling into Tseng's chest while he tries to get her to stand up, warning her about hypothermia. She doesn't remember checking into any kind of Costa Del Sol hotel. But when she wakes up, she's lying on a bed, in a dimly lit room of some kind. She wonders if Tseng had to carry her. She knows she must have fallen straight on the bed and slept, because she's still in the god damn red coat, she's lying on _top_ of a pale green duvet, and her makeup has left black and red smudges on everything. She glances at the clock on the nightstand. It's 4 in the afternoon.

"Oh my god..." She pushes herself up into a sitting position. "Ow ow ow ow ow..." Her back and shoulders _ache_. She leans back against the headboard, wincing, and notices she's left a trail; the coat is crusted in sand and salt, and now the bed is, too. She can hear seagulls outside. She looks around, wondering if it's a hotel; it's so dark...

There's another bed in the room. She spots Tseng's jacket, folded neatly on the end. His sheets look undisturbed.

There's a very quiet knock at the door.

"Yeah?"

"May I enter?" Tseng.

Elena panics, momentarily. She's still covered in sand... But then she reflects that she probably looked a hell of a lot worse last night. "S-sure."

Tseng walks in. He looks pristine; how does he do it? He also looks surprised. "You like that coat, don't you?"

"I've literally just woken up," Elena admits, rubbing her eyes. "Is this a hotel?"

"Close." He gives a small smile, and sits on the edge of the bed. "It's a villa; Shinra's been trying to sell it for a while, but they're struggling to find a buyer. The sofas are stripy." He says that as though it explains everything. "We can finally go for that meal, if you want."

Elena laughs, hollowly. "I need a drink."

"Well, we don't have a Presidential Suite minibar. But the bar over the road is decent." He gestures at the door. "There's a bathroom across the hall, if you want to take care of--" He waves his hand around his face. She's confused for a second, but then it clicks. The makeup! She squeaks, and runs out of the room.

She stares in the bathroom mirror. It's a million times worse than she thought.

"Oh my god," she wails, as Tseng's footsteps echo on the tiles behind her. She looks at him in the mirror. "Did I look like this yesterday?!" She pulls a piece of seaweed out of her hair, and another, and another...

Tseng gives a small shrug.

"Oh my god!" She splashes her face with water.

"Here..." says Tseng. He gently wipes her cheeks with a flannel, until her face is clean.

"Th-thanks, Sir." She trails off. He's looking at her legs. He steps closer. He presses her bottom lip down with his thumb. She gasps. "S-sir?"

He grabs her, and kisses her, hard. "You are _not_ getting away this time." He kisses her again. She slides a hand up under his collar, fondles his tie. He pins her against the doorway. "Get on the bed, Elena, I mean it." His hands go up in her hair; he kisses her again, crushing her to him.

"But Sir, I can't move!"

"Good." He locks an arm around her and propels her back to the bedroom. His hands slide over the coat-- and then he's tearing it off. She pushes her face into his chest. His hands are on her ass. One moves down; he's at the top of her thigh, stroking along the ladders in her tights; he's pulling the tights down, he's pushing her onto the bed; she's kissing him back; he's gripping her thighs and pushing them apart, getting his knee between her legs; her arms are hooked around his neck; he's pressing down on her, thrusting, kissing her breasts, he--

There's a clicking sound and a bright flash.

"What?" They brace, expecting an explosion. Nothing. Gingerly, they glance around-- the walls, the open doorway-- nothing. Elena thinks she hears a floorboard creak, but it must be the mattress because there's no sound after that.

"I didn't imagine that, did I?" says Tseng, tie dangling.

"No, Sir." Elena's tights are halfway down her legs.

"We ought to investigate." Tseng doesn't move.

Elena says nothing. She puts her hands on his belt, and unbuckles it. Tseng tips his head back, eyes closed.

"No," she says, "Look at me."

He does.

Keeping eye contact, she slips a hand down his pants, and rubs. As she does so, she sits up, puts her other hand behind her back, and slowly, deliberately, unzips her dress.

*

The next day, it's in the papers:

_"Scarlet Woman! Shinra's Scarlet's Steamy Snaps in Beachside Sexscapade!"_

And there's a blurb, explaining that the Shinra Director has been photographed engaging in intimate relations with the Head of Security on company time. And there's a blurry photo of a blonde woman in a red dress and black tights, pinned down by a dark-haired man.

Elena and Tseng stare at the headline in horror.

"We're dead," says Tseng, flatly.

"Oh my god, oh my god!"

"If Scarlet doesn't get us, HR will... It's just a local paper; maybe we could buy up all the papers," he thinks out loud. "But that'll make them print more. No, we need violence, the kind a whole town remembers, we need--"

His phone rings.

"Don't answer it!" says Elena.

He pauses for a moment, nods, and returns it to his pocket.

Elena stares at the newspaper. Maybe, if she wishes hard enough, this will turn out to be a nightmare.

"I know I locked the front door," Tseng says, running a hand through his hair.

"Look, here..." Elena reads the article aloud, in an anguished voice, "'The peeping-tom wishes to keep his identity secret, but he granted us an exclusive interview! "_Well, I was napping in the basement-- we all do it!-- when I heard noises from up above._ _**You**__ know the kind. So I went on up, with my camera-- what can I say, I'm a man of simple pleasures-- and I didn't realise who I'd got up there until I saw her coat on the floor. There's no mistaking it! And, well, turns out she likes to call him 'Sir'! And--_"'

"Stop, I don't want to hear any more," says Tseng. He pulls out a cigarette.

*

Sometimes, in life, there are unexplained fires. Sometimes these take place in close proximity to figures in blue suits.

At such times, it is best not to pay close attention. Sometimes figures in blue suits throw cigarette butts at newspaper stands and share inappropriate kisses, but the wise observer does not acknowledge this. It's not worth making a fuss. This, after all, is Costa Del Sol; stranger things have happened at sea.

~Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Curious about whether the romance works! Or if any of it works! I don't really get leather (probably obvious) but I saw a woman in a fabulous red leather coat at a market, so I started making up a fanfic around it, and then Tseng got flirty, so I was like 'I guess this is a romcom now?'. And boss/employee isn't my thing, but I <3 Elena and she likes Tseng so much and I just wanted her to be happy... :'D They are so cruelly denied their moment in the game. So... this is one of those fics where I finish and I feel like I got possessed by someone else while writing. I actually often headcanon Tseng as being terrible at sex... but it would've been too cruel to Elena, after all that.
> 
> I wish I had graphics-editing skills so I could make a dreadful Mills & Boon cover for this.
> 
> Outtakes:
> 
> "Well, we don't have a Presidential Suite minibar. But the bar over the road is decent." He pauses. Her stomach loops. He's looking at her legs.  
And then finally, they fuck.  
THE END
> 
> *
> 
> He bites her shoulder.  
"You like biting, don't you?" she says.  
He blinks. "Would you rather if I didn't?"  
"Oh, no, um, go for it!" She gives him a double thumbs-up.  
*
> 
> "This needs to come off," he tugs at her coat. "Which department do I need to contact to get a permit?"  
"Um, sounds like a task for General Affairs, Sir."  
"Well, as luck would have it, I'm the Director of General Affairs."  
*
> 
> The torpedo hits.  
"What do we do?" says Elena, as the tannoy wails.  
"There are two choices," says Tseng. "Either we scramble for safety, or--" He looks at the reader, "We go down with this ship."
> 
> im sry


End file.
